Point: Gazing Off My Balcony Reminds Me This Is My Time / Counterpoint: Can You See Me Smoking My Bong From The Street?

There’s nothing that makes me feel more alive than watching the city lights twinkle in the distance from the balcony of my first adult home. Even though the AC blows hot air in my face, the fridge doesn’t close quite right, and I might die in the elevator, life truly doesn’t get better than this.

As the night wind blows through my tresses and I rest my arms on the perilous railing, I can’t help but contemplate life’s deepest questions. Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose? Is Kylie Jenner really pregnant with Travis Scott’s baby, or is this just another Kardashian publicity stunt that I really shouldn’t feel so strongly about but am nonetheless inexplicably intrigued by their vapid personalities and superfluous lifestyle?!

The possibilities ahead of me are endless. I can’t be stopped. Can’t you feel the life out there? It’s like the city has a heartbeat, and it’s calling out to me. I’ve got to Instagram this.

Counterpoint: Can You See Me Smoking My Bong From The Street?

By: Scotty G.

Yo, do you think you can see my fat piece from over there? Can you go down and check? Like, it’s not like it’s illegal or anything ya know because freedom of speech or whatever, but I don’t want it to be hella obvious.

Then again, look at this baby. His name is Pebbles. He’s so sweet and rips so hard. I hope you can see this shit from the sidewalk. This shit’s my trophy, man. I can see it now: I’m just chillin’ out here with Pebbles and some dude walking down the block is jealous as fuck.

Oh, and would you look at that! I can see In-N-Out from all the way up here! I mean the view is pretty sick, not gonna lie. Ay, I can also see that homeless guy Rupert, you think he wants a hit? Haha, just kidding. He’s a homie though.